In the Eye's of the Gods
by Isabel Juno
Summary: This is a FF for the new series i suck at writing summaries so just be nice and read my story already! lol and later on there will be some BillLaura, ApolloStarbuck, HeloAthena, and its about two humans found drifting in space and their story.


**Author: Isabel Juno **

**Spoilers/Disclaimers/Authors notes: erm... some spoilers for season 3 i think... i don't know... um... theres no frackin way i own Battlestar Galactica (sadly) and also i've taken a few history things from the original series and also this is my first Battlestar Galactica fanfiction so bear with me... some of this is kinda OOC and i own the boy and Loriean and Carson... i made them up... also ****R&R!!!!!!!! **

In the Eye's of the Gods

By Isabel Juno

Adama made his way silently reveling in the newest shock of late. An old colonial ship found drifting dead in space with two live unconscious passengers and a lot of dead cylons. He entered the drab sickbay where he saw a small boy with fair skin and flyaway brown wavy hair sitting scribbling on a sheet of paper, his pencil dancing furiously across it. Laura Roslin sat beside him with a benign smile on her face as she watched him scribble. The marines standing of to the side snapped to attention as they saw the admiral. "At ease." Adama said calmly. They relaxed a bit and returned to watching the boy. Adama caught Roslin's gaze and they shared a secret warm smile. He glanced down at the boy's paper and was astonished to see that it was not simple scribbles like he'd expected. On the paper written in a neat and orderly fashion were a series of complex equations that reminded Adama vaguely of calculus. The boy ignored him and continued his equation, writing without pause as if he were possessed by the equations and sending his pencil to dash them out across the paper was his only way to escape them. Adama studied the boy carefully. He had hazel colored wavy hair and skin the same color as pearls. His slender countenance was contorted with concentration. His nose was sharp and his eyes were a cool grey. His body was willowy and wiry at the same time. His clothing consisted of tattered old black pants, a dirty grey jumper, and black trainers. Small nicks and cuts decorated the boys exposed skin with a sharp contrast of blood red on pearly white. Adama wondered what the cylons had done to the boy. Athena had said that the boy wasn't a cylon and neither was the man that had been found. Then again, Athena had also said there was a model of cylon that she'd never seen. As soon as he'd reached his answer the boy practically threw the paper and pencil away from him as if to say I shall do this no more. He looked up at Adama and blinked his grey eyes owlishly.

"Hello." His voice was soft, calm, and unafraid. Laura blinked in shock. Adama suspected that the boy hadn't spoken before. Adama kept his voice soft and friendly as he spoke. "What's your name?" The boy cocked his head to one side as if he was struggling to remember. A quirky smile came to his face.

"I'm not supposed to tell that sort of stuff to strangers." He said slyly. Adama felt certain that Laura was struggling not to laugh at the dumbfounded look on Adama's face. She took over the questioning.  
"Do you like math?" She asked gently picking up the discarded paper and studying it. The boy shook his head vigorously.  
"I don't like it one bit but my grandfather told me to make sure I do at least one math problem a day to keep my mind running at top perceptiveness." Adama stared. That sounded like something an old friend of his would say. Laura smiled at the boy.

"I don't like math either, it's depressing." Adama knew exactly what Roslin meant by that. The boy stared at Roslin; his grey eyes seemed to be peering deep into her soul to figure out the meaning behind her words. If he understood her meaning he didn't show it. His eyes cast their intense stare around the sickbay, absorbing every detail. "Where is my father?" He asked suddenly, swiveling his stern gaze onto Adama. Roslin and Adama exchanged glances before making a decision. They wordlessly led the boy towards the screened bed where the other passenger lay. The boy stared silently at the man in the bed. Adama felt an almost electric shock pass through him as he studied the man lying in the bed. The boy was silent for a moment.  
"Is he going to be ok?" Came the breathless whisper. Dr. Cottle was checking in on the unconscious man and he studied the fretting young boy.  
"If he regains consciousness he'll be fine." That was all Cottle would say. The boy looked as though somebody had just punched him in the stomach. Adama glared at Cottle, who ignored him, and Roslin kneeled next to the boy.

"I'm sure he'll be fine and I'm sure that Admiral Adama will let you stay with him." The whole statement was with certainty and there was no way Adama would contradict the last part of Roslin's statement even though he had not planned on allowing the boy to stay. The boy nodded and clambered into the seat next to the bed. Adama gestured to the marines to watch the two refugees and left silently. He entered his quarters, his mind reeling. He poured a scotch and sat at his desk. His eyes closed and he rested his forehead against the cool glass. He didn't hear her enter. She placed her hands gently on his shoulders and leaned her face in next to his ear. "Are you alright?" It was a stupid question and they both knew it. Adama's brows furrowed and his eyes stayed shut.  
"The man in the bed, it's impossible, but I know him." His thoughts chased each other in circles getting nowhere but a migraine. Laura was confused.  
"Why is it impossible that you know him?" Her voice was coaxing and gentle; her fingertips massaged his shoulders.  
"Because, if that is him, then he hasn't aged in twenty-nine years unless…" Adama's voice trailed off as another possibility hit him.

"Unless what?" Laura inquired. Adama felt a whole new wave of shock pass through him.  
"Unless that man is his son"  
"Bill, could you please start making sense?" Adama sighed and set the glass down without drinking. He leaned back in his chair, into Laura's comforting grasp.

"If I'm correct, the man lying in that bed down in sick bay is Loriean Veriack. His father was Carson Veriack, a brilliant pilot I met when I was twenty years old, when the cylons first rebelled against us. He saved my life then and we were friends for twenty-nine years. He left the twelve colonies fourteen years ago. About eighteen years ago he was reassigned to the military science department. He claimed our scientists were creating new cylons, more dangerous cylons. He thought that the programs he was helping develop would become new, more powerful, and more dangerous cylons. He saw the attacks coming eleven years before they happened. His son, Loriean stayed behind, he was a devoted pilot who would stand by the colonial fleet till death. I haven't spoken with Loriean in ten years. I assumed he was killed in the attack on the colonies." Laura listened and something sparked in her memory. The memory was elusive and danced just outside her grasp. Then it hit all the sudden like a fist.  
"I saw the name Veriack on the casualties list after the first attacks on the colonies." Adama twisted sharply to look at her. "What was the name?" She shook her head.  
"I don't remember for sure"  
"What do you think it is?" She bit her lip nervously.  
"Marie Veriack." Bill closed his eyes and a sorrowful looked covered his weathered features.

"Do you know the name?" Laura asked dreading the answer. Bill nodded.  
"Carson's sister." His head shook momentarily. "She was killed forty-three years ago in the first attacks." Laura felt confusion. Bill's eyes opened and he rubbed them wearily. Something didn't fit with this in Laura's memory. She left Bill's quarters later in a befuddled daze and late that night when she was back on Colonial One she began going through the old casualty lists. She just wanted to be certain. Marie Veriack. Right where her name was supposed to be. Laura leaned back in her chair and told her mind that it was being paranoid and over imaginative. She went to set the list aside when the date on it caught her eye. She grabbed blindly for the phone and demanded to talk to Adama. His voice picked up with a weary.

"Hello"  
"Bill, are you sure she was killed forty-three years ago?" His mind was still foggy from sleep and he had no idea what Laura was talking about.  
"Who? What?" He asked as his brows knitted themselves together. Laura's voice was impatient.  
"Marie Veriack. Are you sure she was killed forty-three years ago?" "Yeah." There was a moment of silence on Laura's end. "Why? We talked about this earlier." "Bill… her name… I didn't see it on the casualty list from the original attacks forty-three years ago." Now it was Adama's turn for a moment of stunned silence.  
"What?" His voice had gotten far raspier than normal. "Where'd you see it then"  
"Bill, her name is on the list from three years ago when the cylons destroyed the colonies." Adama dropped the phone. That wasn't possible. He'd been at the funeral.

**if this seems really choppy and confusing i'm sorry... but all will be made clear in the following chapters... and also be kind with the reviews because i'm not with the program right now... i'm sleep deprived... ****R&R please. **


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